Painted Kisses
by AlvainWonderland
Summary: A few untold tales of Merlin and Arthur. AU. Kind of random little drabbles :)
1. Chapter 1

"I'm just gonna go."

Arthur couldn't help but feel a little bit of satisfaction as he watched Merlin shoot up out of his seat and practically sprint out of the diner. After his make-out session with Gwen the night before, he'd driven home on his scooter alone, his previous urge to go mental and dance until he passed out gone completely. He'd planned it all out in his head in the days approaching the rave, finally allowing himself to dream a bit after weeks of trying to keep his relentless thoughts about Merlin under control:

He and Merlin would ride to the rave on his scooter, would dance like it was their last night on earth, would maybe find a quiet place to talk when they got tired before going back to the floor after regrouping…

…and as the night progressed, their proximity to one another would dramatically decrease until Merlin would look deep into Arthur's eyes, smiling coyly as he wrapped his arms around him, the expression on his face melting into a look of pure bliss before their noses touched, their lips moving closer together…

"Are you going to eat anything?"

Arthur turned to Gwen, who was still gazing at him with the same wide-eyed hopefulness she had been all morning. He fidgeted awkwardly.

"Nah, I'm gonna go too I think. You go ahead though."

He slid the plate nearest to him over to Gwen before standing up, hoping to get away before she said anything else. No such luck.

"Arthur…are you going to Merlin's Mum's wedding reception tonight?"

Arthur had forgotten all about that. He really needed some time away from Merlin, time to get his head together and try and get over him as best he could. He didn't fancy finding out if he was back with Lancelot, visions of them dancing and kissing in the middle of The Swan flashing through his mind and making him feel that painful sickness he was so familiar with. Before he could tell him no, he jumped in.

"…because if you are, do you fancy, maybe…going together?"

She was so confident, Arthur thought. He'd always liked that about Guinevere, how she would relentlessly pursue what she wanted once she set her mind on it. Too bad she was barking up the wrong tree in this case. Then again…

"Alright, cool."

She smiled sweetly, and Arthur gave her a small smile in return. "I'll come by yours around 6, yeah?"

"Sounds great!" Gwen looked down at the full English in front of her before her eyes moved up slightly to the seat opposite.

"Oh, Merlin's left his bag behind."

Arthur had already begun to feel guilty about saying yes to Gwen's proposition, his head still in a complete mess. He just had to get out of there, that's all he knew.

"I'll drop it off." Arthur said, lifting Merlin's bag from the seat, noticing it was open. Zipping it up, he slung it over his back and walked forward, kicking something across the floor as he did so. It was a scrunched up piece of paper. As he moved towards the door he stooped to pick it up, holding it in his hand as he left, figuring that it fell out of Merlin's bag.

What was he thinking? Didn't he just decide that he didn't want to see Merlin for a while? Yet there he was, walking in the direction of his house, the feeling of dread increasing with every step. There was a part of him that longed to speak to him, despite everything. He'd arranged the debrief to find out what happened between Merlin and Lancelot after they'd kissed, to find out if it was just a friendly fumble or if it meant something more. Lance had kissed him on the cheek as he left the diner, but they always did that. That didn't mean anything, right?

But what if they'd had…? No, the thought was too much for Arthur to bear, his throat suddenly becoming dry. He clenched his fist, only just remembering the piece of paper in his hand. He saw a bin nearby, walking towards it to chuck it in. Glancing down at his fist, he stopped himself when he saw a blob of hot pink underneath one of the folds. He stood on the kerb, unfurling the crumpled paper in his hands.

His heart skipped a beat when he saw his own face, a picture of him cut out and stuck in the middle. His figure was surrounded by different coloured hearts, brightly coloured stickers and glitter. He recognised Merlin's handwriting, remembering the piece of paper with her home phone number on it stuck on the cork-board in his room. His heart began to pound hard as he read what he'd written around his body.

Arthur felt his face burn hotter and hotter as he read, a feeling of pure elation sweeping over him. It wasn't until he read the biggest phrase, written in thick bubble writing and coloured in deep red that he felt like he was going to explode with happiness:

**'I LOVE HIM!'**

He re-read it over and over again, feeling himself grinning like a total idiot. Merlin did like him! He bloody loved him! He had proof! He couldn't believe it! He didn't want Lance…he wanted _him_. Merlin _loved_ him. Merlin Emrys loved Arthur Pendragon.

He was suddenly snapped out of his reverie by the sound of somebody running towards him. When he looked up, he was greeted by a breathless Merlin screeching to a halt, looking at him with utter horror.

"Oh my God! No!" He suddenly turned on his heel, running away from Arthur as fast as he possibly could.

"Merlin!" Arthur shouted, setting off after him. He folded up the paper as he ran, putting it in his pocket so he could use his arms to pick up the pace. He kept calling Merlin's name as he chased him, pleading with him to stop and talk to him. Merlin ignored him, turning a corner and running into the underpass, running faster than he ever had done before. Arthur managed to catch up to him just before he hit the end of her street. He grabbed the back of his shirt, wrapping his arms around his shoulders to slow him. He tried to struggle free, but Arthur held on as tight as he could, his forehead pressing against her temple. They stood on his street corner, both panting hard, Merlin hunching over slightly and leaning on his knees. As he did so, Arthur shifted so his cheek rested on his back, still holding on. After he caught his breath, he released him slowly moving in front of him. Merlin stood upright, tears springing down his cheeks. He couldn't look Arthur in the eye, instead keeping his eyes locked on the pavement. He looked defeated.

"Arthur…you must be so disgusted. I didn't mean for you to see any of that." He sniffed, clenching his fists in front of him. "Now you know how mental I am…that I'm n-not normal at all." The last few words came out in a near whisper.

Arthur couldn't believe what he was seeing, what he was hearing. For the first time in weeks, he realised he was thinking in perfect clarity.

Dropping the bag from his back, he slowly brought his hands to Merlin's face, wiping away his tears with his thumbs before moving his hands down to hold his shoulders. As he did so, Merlin looked up at him, his eyes widening and crossing slightly due to how close he was to her. He spoke slowly, his voice deep and gravelly due to all his previous yelling.

"You're not mental, Merlin…you're brilliant."

A small smile appeared on Merlin's face, and Arthur beamed back at him. He moved back reluctantly, taking his hand in his. He unclenched his fingers, listening to Merlin's breath hitch as he wrote on her palm.

_'I…love…you…too.'_

He looked up at him, still beaming, and Merlin's smile grew significantly bigger. He let out an embarrassed chuckle, which Arthur mirrored, before tentatively lifting his hand to place a kiss on his palm. Arthur linked his fingers with Merlin's, stooping to pick up his bag. Slinging it over his shoulder again, he walked Merlin back to his house, relishing him ecstatic grin with every step.


	2. Chapter 2

Merlin and Arthur sat in Gwaine's living room, Arthur's arm around Merlin, tracing lazy circles on his shoulder. It was nearly 3 am and the party was winding down. Lance was asleep in the corner, despite the music still playing. Gwaine and Morgana stood in the middle of the room, both wasted, slow dancing. Morgana's head was pressed against Gwaine's chest, Gwaine's arms linked around her waist, resting his cheek on the top of her head. They swayed clumsily, the other partygoers in the room half heartedly chucking confetti all over them. Gwaine still had his party hat on, a gag gift from Arthur. A party horn was still clasped in his hand, and Arthur and Merlin watched them, amused, Arthur whispering in Merlin's ear every now and then.

"I can't believe Gwaine didn't want to play spin the bottle on his 18th Birthday." He said with a grin. "I know he's taken and that but, he loves being the game master."

Arthur's eyes lingered on the goosebumps he left on Merlin's neck as he pulled back, returning to kiss them. He could hear her breath getting slower and deeper, a sign Arthur had become more familiar with as their relationship progressed. Arthur loved learning about this side of Merlin, the side of him he knew was only for his eyes, the side _he _brought out in him. He relished being the one to teach him new things, to be the one to witness is growing confidence first hand, to discover what he'd liked, what turned him on.

They'd done quite a few things up to that point, mostly just kissing, but they hadn't gone all the way. Arthur knew he had to take things slow with Merlin, but more than that, he _wanted to. _For the first time in his adolescent life, he relished every moment of the journey he was sharing with this boy; he wasn't just 'going through the motions' so he could get to the inevitable and - more often than not - disappointing conclusion. He never understood why sex wasn't like it was in the films or in porn. He'd had sex a total of six times with three different girls. He'd told Merlin this, and when he did so he tensed, and he hoped he didn't think he meant to pressure him.

As time went on and their relationship intensified, they faced obstacles and overcame them. Arthur knew Merlin wanted him, he could see it in his eyes whenever they were together, whenever he took his shirt off, whenever he whispered sweet nothings into Merlin's ear when they were alone, but it took him a long time before he let Arthur's hand wander up his shirt to caress his body in the middle of a make-out session. For a good while, he would remain fully clothed and Arthur would keep his hands on his shoulders or on his back. Whenever he would tentatively tug at his shirt, he'd tense, and he'd pull back, noticing him wince in embarrassment before his expression melted into that of frustration. He'd always apologise, and he would gently reassure him that it was fine.

Arthur wished he could adequately express how much Merlin turned him on, how he pictured his face every time he masturbated alone in his room, how he'd imagine his warm lips on his own.

He remembered how hard he became when he finally let him touch his skin, the rush of excitement when he let his hands slip lower on his waist, his other hand buried deep into his thick hair. He'd pulled away, taking off his shirt and holding her close, wishing he could feel his naked skin against his chest. They would always stop once they reached a certain, comfortable point, and more often than not they'd sit on whoever's bed they happened to be laying on, talking and joking around. It was all good, according to Arthur, but he wondered how much longer he could repress his urges.

A night or two before Gwaine's party, Merlin did something completely out of character. The brazen act was still fresh in Arthur's mind. He remembered how he'd snuck into Merlin's house in the middle of the night, something he did with quite a bit of regularity, Merlin letting him in through the back door as usual. It'd been raining and he was soaked to the skin, and Merlin had lead him up to his room, leaving again to get some towels from the bathroom. Arthur had begun to shiver, taking off his shirt and jeans.

"I'm getting your room all wet." He juddered quietly, but Merlin was too busy eyeing him up with intense desire, draping the towel around his shoulders and rubbing it against his cold, wet skin. Once Arthur was almost dry and he'd been nearly driven to distraction by the feeling of Merlin's hands all over his body, they got into his bed, snuggling under her duvet. Arthur was wearing nothing but his boxers. After talking for a little while, Arthur's arm draped across Merlin's body, they began kissing, holding each other close. Arthur had warmed up significantly, and before he knew what was happening he felt Merlin's hand slip underneath his boxers. They broke apart, Arthur's eyes almost black with arousal. Staring at each other intently, Merlin began to caress him, his hand damp with rain from his hair. Arthur felt his breathing come out in short, hard bursts, his eyes clamping shut. He bit his lip, releasing a slight groan. Opening his eyes, he slowly moved his hand towards Merlin's thighs. Merlin tensed, but continued to stroke him, pleading to Arthur with his eyes.

"Arthur…no…"

"Please, Merlin." Arthur whispered against his lips, clearly desperate. His fingers glided up his thigh, over her scars and towards his crotch. He gently moved his thighs apart, burying his hand in-between them, stroking Merlin as he did him. Merlin shifted slightly so he was laying on his back, Arthur looming over him, the warmth under his hand ensuring he wasn't going to last long. He came first, letting out a stuttered "Fuck!," his head pressed against Merlin's shoulder. He stopped the movements of his own hand momentarily, but continued after he'd regrouped, watching his eyes shut tightly and reopen, watching him lick her lips, push his head back into his pillow whilst softly moaning. He climaxed a few minutes later, and Arthur had to kiss him hard to stifle the moan he emitted.

It was this memory that gave Arthur the confidence to write on Merlin's thigh: 'Upstairs?'

Merlin nodded, standing up and taking Arthur's hand. They moved past the dancing couple, Arthur taking the lead and walking upstairs. He checked one door, which was locked, and he remembered Freya going up there with some lad an hour or two ago. He pressed on, checking the next room. It was empty, and Arthur realised it was Gwaine's older brother's room. When they entered, Arthur turned around to lock the door, stopping to gauge Merlin's expression. They'd had a few to drink, so he had been merry up to that point, in good spirits. Now, his expression was reminiscent of the time Arthur confronted him in the wardrobe all those months ago when they were still friends, a hint of awkward fear in her eyes. Arthur was a little drunk, too, and wasted no time in kissing Merlin after he'd ensured their privacy. He manoeuvred him towards the bed, stooping to turn on the lamp on the bedside table. Merlin tried to stop him, always preferring darkness "For his sake." as he'd say, but Arthur would always power through this tactic. "I wanna see you, Merlin." he whispered before kissing him again. He laid him down on the bed, blindly removing his wallet from his jeans and placing it on the duvet next to them as they continued to kiss. "I fucking love you." Arthur whispered against Merlin's lips, holding his head in his hands. He knelt astride her, lifting his shirt over his head. Ducking back down, Arthur continued to whisper to his lover, breath hot against his lips. "The other night was so fuckin' hot, Merlin. You turn me on so much." Arthur wasn't usually much of a talker when they were together like this, but the beer in his system had loosened his tongue considerably. Merlin did nothing much but let out little stifled noises as he spoke, hands spread out on his back. Arthur stopped kissing her, the mood in the room shifting.

"Do you want to um…you know?" Arthur swallowed

Merlin looked up at him, his dishevelled hair surrounding his flushed face. Glancing at his wallet, he nodded. "Ok."

Arthur smiled, ecstatic. He kissed Merlin again quickly, before slowly moving his hands to the bottom of his shirt. "I want to see you, Merlin." he repeated, and Merlin let him lift his dress off above his head. Merlin's eyes fixed on the shirt as Arthur dropped it on the floor. He noticed he was shivering considerably, his confidence faltering as he became exposed. Arthur tried to bring him back, but Merlin had already looked away from him, tears forming in his eyes. "Merlin…" Arthur placed a hand gently on his cheek. Merlin's eyes closed tight, tears coming thick and fast.

"I'm sorry…I can't do it."

"It's alright" Arthur soothed, lifting himself off him. Merlin sat up, grabbing his dress from the floor and putting it back on. Arthur put his shirt back on and sat near to him, making sure to keep his distance.

"I'm sorry." He repeated, wiping his eyes, trying to compose himself.

"You don't need to apologise, Merlin. The last thing I wanna do is rush you."

Merlin looked at him, eyes glistening. "I want to, Arthur, I really do, but…"

"But what?"

Merlin didn't know what to say to him. If he was bored of his own self-hatred, he was sure Arthur was too. Arthur had been a saint, Merlin thought, so kind, so considerate, so _patient. __He_wanted to do unspeakable things the blonde, to let him do to her all the naughty stuff he'd been talking about for so long, but the thought of his skeleton-like; pasty, dimply body stopped him. He still couldn't comprehend how Arthur could find him so attractive.

He'd been getting better, but he was nowhere near cured. When you hate yourself so much, it's a long journey towards self-acceptance, a 'life long project for everyone', as Gaius would say. He didn't want Arthur to be the one burdened with 'trying to save him'; no one person could fix all his problems, only he could do that, he knew. Yet recently he'd been battling with her intense, overwhelming love for this beautiful boy who seemed to adore him, fighting between wanting to be with him forever and letting him go, the persistent voice in his head convincing him Arthur would be happier with somebody else. Every attractive, skinny bitch he'd seen flirting with him had almost lead to a break up, the bond between Merlin and Arthur so strong yet so fragile at the same time. It wasn't that he didn't trust Arthur – he made that perfectly clear – it was that he didn't want people taking the piss out of Arthur anymore. Arthur would try so hard to convince him he was imagining things, but when they were walking down the street holding hands (Arthur gripping onto his hand as tight as he could so he wouldn't let go) or at the pub together cuddling, he could swear all eyes were on them, could imagine what people thought.

"He must be desperate." "He must give good head." "Is he blind?"

Sometimes girls would flirt with Arthur whilst Merlin stood right next to him, Arthur shifting uncomfortably, sometimes giving Merlin a peck to get the message across. The girl would more often than not look at the couple with utter disbelief, re-joining her friends who would giggle, cruelly. Arthur would turn to Merlin and say something along the lines of "I tell you what, if I was ever given a free pass to punch a girl, I'd be cashing it in right now." Merlin would always laugh, and Arthur would press another kiss on his cheek. Sometimes they'd be so caught up in their own unique little world, it wouldn't bother Merlin at all, but when his mind wandered into dark territory whenever he found himself alone, times like that would torment him along with everything else.

He wondered, as he and Arthur sat on the bed in Gwaine's house, how long his patience would hold out. Every time he told him the reason he pulled away felt like another nail in their coffin. He could see him getting frustrated, knowing how much he wanted him yet still not letting him in. Merlin opted for silence, this time, telling Arthur she was going to head home.

"I'll walk you back." He said immediately, and Merlin felt like she was going to cry again at how sweet he was being. They both peeked into the living room as they were leaving. Morgana and Gwaine were asleep where Merlin and Arthur had been sitting, their arms around each other, still covered in confetti. Lance had spread out across the floor, fast asleep.

Merlin and Arthur left the house as quietly as possible, walking back to Merlin's house in silence.

Arthur kissed him gently at him front door. "I'll call on you tomorrow, alright?"

Merlin nodded, stepping up into him house, watching Arthur walk away.

As Merlin lay in bed, the smell of Arthur still on his sheets, he thought about the guy Freya was with that night, how he'd got a lot luckier than Arthur had. Merlin desperately wished to get over his insecurities, knowing full well how futile it was to do so. He slowly drifted into sleep, breathing in the lingering smell of rain.


End file.
